


the continent in-between

by felixfvlicis



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: M/M, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-12
Updated: 2012-09-12
Packaged: 2017-11-14 04:01:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/511093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/felixfvlicis/pseuds/felixfvlicis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>post-2x10.  After his Grammy dies, Mike struggles to keep his head above water.  With Tess's reemergence in his life, he copes the only way he knows how - by numbing the pain.  Harvey's been his one good thing, his one bright spot, but will he be enough to save Mike from his grief, from himself?</p>
<p>Trigger Warnings for self-harm and attempted suicide.</p>
<p>I do not own the characters.  All credit to Aaron Korsh's brilliance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the continent in-between

Twenty seven days had passed. Harvey burrowed himself each of Mike’s crevices, pushed down his walls forcefully, and grew roots from Mike’s fingers to his toes. He was determined to offer Mike a home – a home within the wrinkles of his forehead that relaxed when he fell asleep, a home in the space between his fingers, where Mike could trace his origin, his successes and his failures; but find a sealed in warmth when daylight welcomed itself. Harvey wanted to give. 

Mike had a route planned for himself. Wrong turns and temptation smacked him in the face with every mindless step he took. First, it was Trevor – his Trevor -- that got him enveloped so deep in the drugs and the emptiness that he couldn’t break the seal, slicked with saliva and something like glue. Once he found Harvey, his safety net, his purpose, his drive and motivation – but never truly his – Trevor took a backseat to the depths of the Montana plains. For Mike, though, Harvey wasn’t enough. Even the depth of compassion, warmth and something-that-felt-a-lot-like-love Harvey had offered him the days and weeks after he lost his anchor to this place called earth wasn’t enough to save him from himself or the drug-induced haze he clawed at his skin for. 

 

Tess reemerged in Mike's life shortly after Grammy’s funeral, and constructed a home for herself within his self-doubt and guilt, completely insulating him. Tess was like a needle. The tip of it sharp and precise as it pushes into your skin, the target’s clear. She hit his weakest spots, magnified them, but after the initial numbness faded, she recreated herself, spread throughout his body, allowed him to feel the sensations on repeat. Tess had two buttons: strong and stronger. As strong as the climb to the high could be, the after-effects were stronger. Mike’s anxiety peaked complete with hallucinations, scratching a non-existent itch so hard to draw a pool of blood on his thigh and his guilt was forceful enough to make him swallow an entire bottle of pills without hesitation. He tapped out sitting cross-legged in the bathtub, hands still clawing at his wrists as his skin shed itself, layer by layer, as it scalded and sluffed off, burning from the outside in.

Checking on Mike had become a daily occurrence, and Harvey was especially concerned, since Mike didn’t bother to show up for work. That’s how Harvey found him. His head buried underwater, lying flat on his back against the sterile white tub with the rubber duck and blue loofah still perched in the corner. Harvey dialed 911. “Mike,” he choked, aiming for a scream, but what came out was more like a plea. He shook him vigorously, with so much force that the water, now cold and dirty, spilled over the sides of the bath. Mike’s lips weren’t blue, but they were getting there, his pruned discolored fingers still locked into clawing position. “C’mon, Mike. You better not tap out, god damnit. Don’t leave me alone. Please.” Harvey begged and begged, his voice getting steadier, louder. “Mike. Mike. MIKE. Wake up. Do you not remember a single thing I’ve told you? You don’t get to quit. You don’t get to walk out, to fucking check out on me. Do you get that?!” Harvey’s yelling was interrupted by the movement of the EMT’s. He hadn’t even heard them come in. After he came to, he scooted to the corner, clear of the activity. His hands were clasped in his lap, and for the first time, Harvey Specter did something he’d never done – he prayed, to what, or who, he wasn’t sure, but there was a plea, in there somewhere, between his huffing and prickles of tears forming in his eyes, to save Mike Ross. He thought of his father, of all of his missed opportunities because he was so damn busy with work. He checked out of his dad’s life unconsciously, his mind full of self-created memories and jazz notes, floating through space, somehow all connected, transferring through the tangibility of needle to record, settling somewhere deep within Harvey. He thought about Mike’s Grammy. About how much she sacrificed, how much she tried to fill the void of his parents, but somehow, always falling just short because she simply wasn’t. 

As he watched the EMT’s perform CPR, he imagined Mike’s body having a jelly-like consistency; he wanted to insert steady hands in Mike’s chest: push through his guilt-ladened bones, rinse them clean and offer himself up, warm with life and completely unfailing; insulating Mike, giving him the thing he said he wanted when they first met: a second chance.

**Author's Note:**

> I kept the ending ambiguous on purpose. I like to think that Mike survives, but we'll never really know.  
> Title modified from 'Sacred Texts' by AP.


End file.
